Floating
by chocolatecheesecakes
Summary: Harry needed Lily and James. This time around, he might get what he needs most in the World. Just not in a conventional way.
1. Chapter 1

This was written for Defense Against The Dark Arts Assignment Two and Penelope in the Greek Mythology Challenge on HPFC.

Floating 

When he died - he was dead now - it didn't hurt.

Simply a sense of weightlessness, like he was floating. A flash of green light. His weary bones, scarred and torn from the destruction around him, the glass in his hands and the rips in his robes, they were all detached to him now.

_"Go Lily!" James said urgently, pushing his wife out of the living room door. "Take Harry and go!"_

_Lily looked at him momentarily, cradling their son in her arms and tears sparkling in her sea green eyes. Then she moved her free hand up and touched his cheek._

_"GO!" James insisted, his fingers meeting Lily's for a split second. Then she was gone in a blur of red hair._

_Lord Voldemort blew the window out first, and then knocked the door down. James swore under his breath (bloody wand was upstairs) and ignored the stabbing pain that meant that there w_as _now a spike of glass stuck in his palm._

_James would be damned if he was going to let some idiot walk in here and kill his family._

_"Ah, James Potter." Voldemort crooned, as James backed up the stairs, trying to hear the sounds of Lily's beautiful voice as she sung to Harry-_

_"I might not have my wand," James smirked, clenching his fist. "But I'm still going to punch you in the nose- oh."_

There was a satisfied smirk on James Potter's face as the green light came spiralling. Voldemort didn't look pleased with his quip.

_Mischief Managed_ was the last thing James managed to think, before the light that had burned for twenty-one years flickered out.

But he couldn't leave. Something kept him tethered to the material world- not a fear of truly dying, but a fear that his son, little Harry, might never know his parents.

James looked down. He was hovering, just off the ground. His arms were transparent, in fact he could see a picture of him, Sirius, Remus and-

And-

"James?"

James spun, or rather simply turned in mid-air, to see Lily, just like him, hovering off the ground, crystal years clinging to her translucent face.

"Lily-flower." James breathed. "He..."

"Harry's alive." Lily said, her eyes crinkling. "But, I suppose, you knew that already."

James smiled thinly. "I couldn't leave him." He said, in a thick, choked voice. "Lils, I couldn't..."

"Neither could I." Lily sighed, tears still running down her face. "Harry needs us."

Then she was in her husband's arms - they could touch each other, if not anything else - and they were both crying.

Crying together. They had a second chance. Someone out there had answered an unspoken plea.

And now Harry would have parents. And even if they had to be tethered to Earth for all eternity, then as long as James had Lily and Lily had James...

They would be alright.


	2. Chapter 2

This is a second part to my DADA assignment. I had to write a monologue continuing on from my main story.

Spot the Doctor Who reference!

Falling

The most frequent question presented to me was: 'What is it like, having ghosts for parents?'

What the askers didn't understand, was that I had more than just Mum and Dad. Sure, my mother could never do more than place her arm through mine, and my father could only stand by and watch as I helped Gryffindor win the House Cup, but the people that looked after me in a physical manner were always there as well.

Even though my parents were there for me, even though my Uncle Moony and Uncle Padfoot stood behind me, even though Ron and Hermione accepted my family without question, I knew that I was not normal.

Here I was, standing in front of a cauldron, in a dark graveyard. I was watching a Death Eater, someone I recognised vaguely from the fog of my mind, and my parents and uncles were searching for me furiously,

I could feel it.

But I knew they wouldn't find me. Uncle Padfoot had taught me how to recognise magical barriers before, and the sheen to the sky was evidence of such a fact.

My mother had explained to me the truth of what had occurred, the day she died. Voldemort was not dead, she explained. He simply fled.

I was brought up training for such a day as this. I was born to be a martyr, and I knew I would die.

The day I died would be the day my parents finally let go of this Earth.

"_We're such a tiny planet." My mum sighed, trying to touch the wood of the back garden bench, but her hand drifted straight through. "Clinging so tightly as it spins around, thousands of times a second. And if we let go..."_

I was about to let go. If I died, then the Wizarding World would live. I looked towards Cedric, who was crouched behind a gravestone.

"Stay there." I mouthed at him.

The Death Eater approached me, and I swallowed, my eyes closing.

_Ron and Hermione, I'm sorry, I have to do this._

There was a flash of blind pain in my arm, and I clenched my eyes tight shut to stop the tears leaking out.

But nothing more. I waited one second, two, and then opened my eyes.

"Not today." The Death Eater muttered at me. "The Dark Lord wants you alive. For now."


End file.
